By the Full Moon
by CountDimentio
Summary: Werewolves. Nature's beast of terror. An atempted summon goes horribly wrong and the beast mortaly wounds the nation of England. With it on the loose, every country is at risk... USUK Sister story to Picture Book Contains lots of blood and plot holes
1. Chapter 1

Clad in black robes...

Book in hand...

He raced down the halls...

Cloak billowing behind him...

Bursting into a room...

Pure crystal ball on the table...

Holding no flaw...

Fear in his eyes...

He looked around...

For a weapon...

Anything...

A silver knife...

He grabbed it...

Raised it to defend himself...

Looking around the room again...

Nothing was there...

Then a howl...

He panicked, eyes going wide with fear, and squeaked with fright. Something appeared in the doorway. A dark, furry silhouette. Tall and wide. Long sharp teeth. Dripping with blood. The man clutched his stomach, which bore a wound. A deep bite mark. Oozing with red. The beast growled and dropped on all fours. It's prey squealed with fright and pointed the blade at it, shaking. Blonde hair speckled with blood. Green eyes tainted with horror. Opening the book, a circle of light appeared around the creature.

"GO BACK FROM WHENCE YOU CAME, BEAST!!"

The circle got brighter and the beast howled with anguish. Head in it's claws, it rolled about the floor with pain. The man smiled, ignoring his bleeding wound. Blade glinting in the light. Tip focused on the creature. In his triumph, he didn't notice the beast straching it's way to it's feet again. With a blood curtling howl and snarl, the wolf-ish huminoid caused the man to freeze with horror. "No..." Was his whisper of terror. "It's should've worked! DAMNIT! WHY WON'T IT WORK!!" Screams of fright. The beast growled menacingly and pounced upon the man. Blood curtling screeches were heard throughout the house.

Blood splattered the walls. The beast was long gone. It's victem, left behind. Feasted upon. Slipping away. Outside, sirens dominated the air. Lights flashed and ambulances showed up. Someone had heard the comotion. But no one had seen the scene of the crime... Yet...

An appalled America burst into the house, followed by a couple of paramedics, and immediatly began searching. "England!" He called out, hoping the nation had enough energy to respond to him. After pretty much scanning the entire first floor, the blonde nation continued to the basement, while the paramedics searched the upper floor. Down the halls he stomped, frustrated that something like this could've happened. "ENGLAND! WHERE THE HELL ARE YO-" He heard something. A faint response. "A-Alf-f-fred...." A tiny whisper. Then he spotted and open door. Splattered with blood.

He raced down the hall to the exact room and looked inside, horrified of what he found. "OH MY GOD! ARTHUR!" Rushing to the almost dead nation, he knelt down and whipped out his walkie talkie, calling for the paramedics. Holding England's still bleeding head in his hands, America glanced at the damage. "Arthur, please stay with me. The paramedics will be here soon." The wounded nation simply looked up at him, drained of energy. "P-Please, hang in there!" He mustered up all his energy for one word. "W-Werewolf..." America was puzzled. "What?" UK strained to say it again. "Werewolf..." Finally, the other nation got it. "That's what did this to you?" England nodded. For some reason, part of Alfred couldn't believe him. A werewolf? Impossible!

The paramedics finally arrived, rushing into the room. Immediatly, they tried their best to stop the bleeding, lifting him onto a strecher and carrying him out of the house. America stood, looking around the room and spotted a knife laying in the corner. Silver. He picked it up, studying the engravings on the blade. On one side was what looked like a sorcerer. Cape flowing. Book of spells in hand. A type of wand in another. He flipped the item over. This side had what looked like a menacing beast carved into it. Built like a professional wreastler and furry as a wolf, it stood on it's meaty hind legs. Flexing it's front claws. No pupils. Just two big black eyes. Baring it's teeth. Rows upon rows of sharp fangs. A pair of huge saber teeth potruded from the front, slightly curling past it's jaw. Large, pointed ears pinned to it's head, a sign of displeasure. Finally, a long bushy tail was depicted curling around it's body, ending in what seemed to be a whip. If this creature did indeed exist, then it had to be much more terrifying in real life. Alfred found the dagger's sheath lying on the floor and picked it up, attaching it to his belt. Slipping the blade inside it, he left the room...

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AN: 8D I hope you all liked this! Maybe this be a halloween special you shall never forget!!!

Oh, and since this is a sort of sister story to Picture Book, it shall follow with the character relations throughout that story. So each chapter shall be related to the current chapter of Picture Book.

Right now, the most recent chapter is chapter 15. I Still Love You


	2. Chapter 2

_Movement_

_Blood_

_Growling_

_Screaming_

_His entire body went numb..._

_All he heard was something slurping..._

_Looking down..._

_He saw the animal feasting upon the blood..._

_His blood..._

_Licking its chops..._

_It seemed to smile..._

_Closing its eyes with pleasure..._

_It plunged it's hand into his torn open abdomen..._

_His entire body shuddered..._

_But not with pain..._

_Just a reflex..._

_Just the thought..._

_Of being feasted upon..._

_Alive..._

England groaned and rolled over, obviously not taking pleasure in his dream. He slightly opened his eyes, peeking out from under the blood drained lids. Bright light. He closed them again. He heard someone move near him. Cloth against cloth. He finally brought his eyes to open, looking around the room. A hospital room. At once, he was wide awake and he sat up, questions running through his mind. How did he get here? Where was the werewolf? Which hospital was this? One question truly surprised him. Who am I again? Looking to his left, he saw a stranger. Blonde, wild hair. Blue eyes peeking out from underneath brown glasses. A leather, fur-lined bomber jacket. Who was he?

The man noticed Arthur and sat up in the chair he was in, smiling. "It's good to see your awake..." he said in a sweet tone of voice. "I hate to admit it but... I thought you were a goner..." England paused, not knowing how to address the man. "W-Where am I?" he finally asked. "Um... the hospital... The same one we brought that you... well... cut..." The nation was confused and glanced at his wrists, which bore ugly scars. Shocked, he stared at them. "H-How did those get there???" With a finger, he traced the lines. The man seemed appalled. "You don't remember?! A while back, you'd cut yourself... How could you not remember that?!" England looked over at him. "I can't remember anything other than that... thing..."

"What thing?"

"The werewolf..."

The man looked like he'd slapped him across the face. "You mean, you can't remember anything before that." Arthur shook his head. "Even your own name?" He shrugged. "Well, when I think of that, all that comes up is the word 'England'... But, I don't know if that's it or not..." He ran a hand through his hair. The man sat there, frozen. "Your true name is Arthur Kirkland. The country of England..." he said, as if that would refresh UK's memory. "C-Country?"

America returned to the waiting room, where the other nations waited. Russia. Italy. France. Sealand. The nurse had said that only one person could go and see Arthur a day because of his state. So they'd chosen Alfred. He would probably react the best out of all of them. France would freak out at the sight of his love wounded. Russia would get flashbacks from his childhood and emotionally break down. Sealand would just flip out like any child would if they saw a beloved relative in ruins. Italy would freak out worse than France. America would probably panic a bit, but remain calm for the health of the older nation. He was to bring back an update on his status to the others. And the news he had to share wasn't at all good.

As soon as he entered the room, the group seemed to surround him. France spoke up first. "Well... is he alright?" Alfred looked up at him, a solemn look upon his face. The entire group was silent, waiting for anything about the poor nation currently cooped up in a hospital room. "Ameri-" "He's alright, physically. A little bruised and blood drained but, other than that, fine." A soft sigh of relief echoed throughout the group. "What about mentally..." Russia asked. Alfred looked away, a sign of something bad. Ivan slightly panicked. "What is it? Alfred, what's wrong?" Still nothing. The taller nation was now frustrated and grit his teeth. "What's wro-" America cut him off. "He might very well have amnesia, alright!" Tears pricked in his eyes and Ivan backed off at the sight of Alfred this upset. "He didn't even know that he was a nation..."

Suddenly, either from fear for England or just wanting to see himself, Sealand burst down the hall towards his brother's room. Fearing that the boy might mentally fuck up UK even more, the rest of the group raced after him. They stopped at his room just in time to see Sealand leap up onto the bed, cuddling up to Arthur. England was a bit surprised, but wrapped his arms around the boy. "What's wrong, kid?" he asked when Sealand's started to cry. "Please don't lose your memory, brother! I don't want you to forget meeee!" Peter sobbed, face dug into UK's chest. The older nation raised an eyebrow. "Brother?" Just then, Peter elbowed the wrong place and England's face contorted with pain. "B-Brother!? I'm sorry!" the boy cried. Curiously, he pulled down the blankets to find Arthur's torso completely covered with bandages. Bandages soaked with blood.

America could've sworn he saw Italy twitch with what looked like thirst and turn away. He looked over at him. "What's wrong, Feli?" The other nation glanced at him, but quickly looked away. "N-Nothing..." he whispered. "I think Iggy's had enough visitors for today." He turned towards the boy. "Come on Sealand." Peter looked up, not happy that he had to leave. "Come on, Italy! Can't I stay just a little longer? Pleeeaaase?" he pleaded. Arthur looked up at the brunette nation, pain gone. "I don't mind..." he said, causing a smile to bloom on Sealand's face. Defeated, Feliciano sighed. "Fine... but I have to go..." With that, he turned and left. Suspicious, America followed him, leaving France and Russia to grovel in England's misfortune.

Outside the hospital, Italy was walking quite fast and Alfred struggled to keep up with him. So many turns. So many directions. It was all so confusing. Almost as if Feliciano was trying to shake off anyone following him. Yet America stayed glued to his trail, where ever it led. Finally, Italy got to his destination. The local park. Marching through, he found a secluded patch of trees and brush and slipped inside as smooth as a shadow. Confused, Alfred followed. Hiding behind a tree, he saw Feli pull out a vial form his pocket filled with a strange red liquid. He tore off the cork and gulped it down, breathing heavy. However, his breathing was not from the walk, but from some undying thirst. The liquid dripped down the corner of his mouth as he tried to drink the entire vial in such a short span of time. Frustrated, he licked the side of his mouth, getting the rest of it, but accidently revealed one of his biggest secrets. A pair of fangs in place of canine teeth. No wonder he'd been so edgy when seeing England's blood...

_**He's a vampire...**_

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AN: About fucking time the major plot holes started kicking in, don't ya think? 8D

What spawned the Vamp!Italy idea; I saw an article a while ago on a vampire grave in Italy being dug up. There was this skeleton whom had fangs and a huge brick shoved in its mouth... The brick was apparently an attempt to stop the person from feeding on the blood of the dead. Thus, I couldn't pass up the opportunity of having a vampire Italian. I hope you enjoy knowing that.

PS: Let me know if this starts getting like Twilight! I don't want any copyright shit on my ass! Also, not to dis you fans, but… I'm not exactly a fan of the series. Sure, I've read up to Eclipse and it seems to attract plenty of fans but… not exactly the best story on Earth. IF SOMEONE POSTS A REVIEW STATING HOW TWILIGHT SUCKS OR IS TOTALLY FUCKING AWESOME, IT WILL BE REMOVED. You may say that you don't like it, but don't go bashing it just to make a fuss or state a claim. It's not nice and I don't want fights on my review page. You may also state that you like it, perhaps quite a bit. But there's other books in the world. Twilight isn't the ONLY series and you don't have to try to force people to agree with you. So, you may state your opinion on this story, if it gets similar and your opinion on the series if you wish, JUST NOTHING EXTREME. A simple, 'it's a good romance story' or, 'I don't care for it' will do.

PB current chapter: 15.I Still Love You


	3. Chapter 3

America was stunned and froze in place, his blood going cold. He slipped behind a large bush to avoid Italy's piercing line of sight. The vampire scanned the area with golden eyes, pupils stretched to slits and irises flecked with red. He seemed to smile and slipped his eyes closed, lowering his head. Out of nowhere huge, black wings appeared on his shoulders, flinging feathers all over the place. Grinning slightly, Italy stretched both his arm and the wings, sighing with relief. "It's nice to be able to stretch these old wings after so long…" he seemed to think out loud. "Right, Romano?"

Italy turned, looking up into a nearby tree, and smiled. Clinging to the branches was his brother, also fanged and winged. Grimacing, the South flicked his wings slightly, raising off the branch, and opened them wide, skimming upon a small gust of air to the ground. Unlike Feliciano, Lovino had dragon-like wings. Boney claws at the tip. Tough, leathery membranes. A dark gray.

"I guess so… I don't know why you just don't fly at night, though. No one's gonna see you!" The North looked away, smile disappearing. "There's always a chance…" Romano scoffed at the comment, rolling his eyes. There was a moment of silence and America tried his best to remain unseen.

"I heard you went to see England… How was it?"

Feliciano tensed up, images of the blood-stained bandages flashing through his mind. Because of that, he hesitated. "V-Va bene…" He stuttered a bit, for his mind was on blood and not the moment. Romano raised an eyebrow. "Bull." The North's curl and wings drooped, a sign of embarrassment. "What really happened, fratello?" The South waited for an answer, yet it never seemed to come. "Well?" Feli turned to him. "Let's just say the nurse needed to change his bandages…"

Lovino seemed stunned, eyes wide. "Were they soaked?" The North nodded. Romano drew in a sharp breath. "Was it hard to… hold back..?" He took the silence for a yes. "You don't think anyone noticed… Do you?" Feliciano shrugged. "America seemed a little edgy… He might've seen me twitch…" More silence. Suspense. Tension. Worry.

"You don't think he followed you, did he?" Another question. The North shook his head. "He couldn't have. My trail was too widespread. No human could've followed a path that complicated…" The South paused. "You sure?" Feliciano seemed to glare at him. "Pretty damn sure…" Romano looked around. "Well, I have the feeling we're being watched…"

At that precise moment, Alfred slipped and fell into the bush, shaking it by accident. The noise drew the attention of the Italians and they turned to see what was there. Panicking, America got to his feet and raced off. Feliciano froze and simply stared, to shocked to know what to do. Also shocked, Romano leapt into the air and pursued the American…

Back in the hospital… Sealand cuddled close to his older brother, careful not to touch his bandaged wounds. France had pulled up a chair beside the bed and sat down, looking over his love. And Russia leaned on the doorway, as if to monitor those who came and left. Arthur wrapped an arm around Peter, to calm him. The room was quiet, as if everyone was afraid to talk…

Subconsciously, Francis grabbed UK's free hand and held it tight, biting his lip. Green eyes stared at him questioningly and he froze, letting go. "S-Sorry. I'm just so used to-""I know." The Britain cut him off. More silence. Sealand cuddled closer. "Mmmm… Brother…" he whined softly. Arthur looked down at him and something snapped in his head. A mental click of information. He suddenly remembered, for once in the entire morning, who the child was. "Peter…" Before the boy could look up, England hugged him tight and placed a loving kiss on his forehead. "How could I have forgotten you…?" Russia and France stared at him, frozen with shock. If he'd remembered Sealand then…

"M-Mon chéri?" Francis gently touched England's arm, as if to grab his attention. Arthur turned to him, softening his grip on Sealand. He knew what the other two were thinking and, sadly, it wasn't happening. "Sorry, but… no… Only him…" Russia turned away, sighing, and France's eyes filled with sorrow. He withdrew his hand and leaned back in his chair, watching Peter cuddle his brother with jealousy. "Excuse me…" A voice at the threshold.

Russia turned to the voice and saw a tiny nurse, who's head reached just under his collar bone. Shocked by how small she was, he hesitated before stepping aside. "S-Sorry…" he quickly apologized. She smiled. "It's ok, it's not your fault I'm so tiny I'm hardly noticed…" Silently, she stepped into the room with a tray. On it was various medical items. The woman strolled over to the bed and placed the tray on the side table, carefully checking the IV in England's wrist. She removed the nearly empty bag of fluids attached to the tube and replaced it with a new, full bag.

"For those with a weak stomach, I'd advise that you leave the room, it's time to replace his bandages." Sealand promptly climbed off the bed, obviously not ok with having to see his brother's bloody innards. He kissed Arthur on the cheek before leaving the room. UK looked over at Russia. "Ivan, mind watching him in the waiting room for me?" he asked. The tall man nodded and left the room, shutting the door behind him. England looked over at Francis. "You sure about this?" France smiled. "I've seen your blood before, haven't I?" UK shrugged. "I guess..."

The nurse pulled on her elbow-high, rubber gloves, so she would've spread any germs through the open wound, and gently pulled the blankets off the bandeges. England obediantly removed his shirt, so it wouldn't get in the way, and let thw woman gently removed the blood-stained fabric. She grabbed a pair of medical scissors and cut down the side of the top, hard layer of bandeges. So hard, it was almost like a cast. Yet, like hard rubber, you could move it with some effort. Once she'd peeled that layer off, there was another blood-soaked barrier of fabric. This layer was much more malleable and could be torn off easily with bare hands. Although, the nurse still used care. She cut a small slit on the edge and gently teared it off. England grabbed France's hand. Partly out of suspense to see what was under the last layer and partly out of pain, for the bandeges were sticking to his skin. The last layer of dark-red gauze.

The woman slowly and carefully peeled off the gauze, peaking underneath. Her eyes went wide with something out of shock and fear. "O-Oh my god..." she whispered. "What!?" France asked, panicking. The nurse pulled off the gauze completely, revealing the untouched stomach of England. "You're completely healed..." The entire room wen silent and all three of them stared down at the flawless, unharmed skin. "H-How is that possible...?" UK almost didn't recognize the petrified whisper that came from his lips. "After only eight and a half hours of rest... The entire wound..." The nurse was just as shocked. Just then...

"Aah!" The nurse jumped back a bit, holding out a finger. She'd accidently cut herself on the scissors and sliced her index finger open. "Damnit! Hold on, I need to clean these off incase anything's on them that could get in the cut..." And so the woman marched of into the bathroom. From her direction issued the sound of running water. There was silence. England just stared at his unharmed abdomen, which he remembered very well it being torn open. France ran his hand across the flawless skin, tickling the pale flesh with his fingers. "Magnifique..." he whispered softly, smiling. Arthur loosened his grip on the man's other hand, but still held on.

Francis looked over at him, staring into the green eyes he loved so much. UK caught his glance and stared back, but without the adoration. Still, when it came to France, his mind was blank. Mental folders empty. Everytime the man acted the way a lover would toward him, he always felt so awkward. Yet, England had a feeling they must've had something together. Some form of love or friendship. Some strong bond. Although he may not like him now, Arthur knew he shouldn't shun the frenchie's advances. Hands clasped, Francis leaned toward him, closer and closer til their nose's were almost touched. Their eyes slipped shut as their breath tickled their own faces. Lips slightly parted, almost touching. "Mon amour pour toi est éternel..." France uttered one last whisper before closing the gap between them.

America raced though the park, looking for the Italian vampires any chance he could get. Any moment of rest, he took. Any opportunity to plan a few steps ahead, he gladly accepted. He knew Romano had super sense, being a super being, and could probably find him easily in a crowd of a million people. Thus, he needed as much of a head start as he could get. Skidding at every corner. Breath heavy with exhaustion. Stumbling with every step. At this rate, he wouldn't last merely 2 minutes against the brother's if the chases became a fight. No human could hope to take one two vampires and win. Etiher he had to find a way to the saftly of the mobs or he had to stay and fight. And the later would probably mean death. A small probability, but it WAS a probability. Just then, he heard the faint flapping of wings...

Alfred looked up and saw Romano dropped from the sky, aimed at him. The italian plunged through the trees and snatched the blonde right off the ground. He atempted to carry him into the branches, but America didn't really agreed on that decision. The blonde put up a damn good fight and socked Lovino right in the gut, grabbing a wing as well. Struggling to stay in the air, The Southern Italian plunged from the sky and crash-landed into the grass. Alfred leapt to his feet and broke into a dead run once again. However, the south had reenforcements...

Feliciano dove down from the air and grabbed the American, pulling him to the ground. He wrapped his large, arch-angel-like wings around both their bodies and held tight, immobilizing the blonde. Alfred squirmed in the feathery grip, trying desperatly to get free. "D-DAMNIT! AAH! LEMME GO!!" he cried, kicking furiously at his captor's knees. Yet, surprizingly, the italian held fast, determined to keep the american down. He put a hand over the blonde's mouth, to keep him from screaming, but that just made Alfred freak out even more. Muffled screams filled the grove and Romano stood, on wing drooping and his face contorted with pain. He trudged over to his brother and kneeled down, easing the North's constricting wings open. He was warmly greeted by America's flailing arms. He backed off a bit after almost being hit in the face, but slipping in with super speed. Expertly, the South grabbed Alfred's wrists and pulled him out of his brother's grasp, pinning him to the ground.

Feliciano slipped in close to his brother like a shadow and they both glared down at America. The once innocent italians were now petrifying blood-suckers. "Looks like there was someone listening in..." Romano hissed, purposely baring his fangs. "Next time, you should listen when I have a hunch, brother..." The North growled slightly and shot a glare at his sibling before looked back down at Alfred. "Too bad there won't be a next time..." He leaned down, nose to nose with the american. "Cause you won't eavesdrop on us again, right?" His fangs tickled the blonde's lips as he spoke. Alfred quickly shook his head and the italian smiled. "Good boy..." he whispered slyly. The italians then stood, towering over the feeble human. Romano seemed to shoo him. "Now git outta here..." America scrambled to his feet and bursted into a dead run out of the park...

The two italians watched him go. Feliciano turned to his brother. "You don't think I was too over the top, right?" The South shook his head. "You did fine... It wasn't the scariest thing you've done but it'll pass as pretty damn intimidating..." The North smiled at the compliment. "Grazie..." Lovino smiled slightly. "Prego..." He then flexed his wings, wincing as he unfurled the drooping one. "Now, let's get home..." Feli nodded. "Good idea..." He turned to leave, wings open and ready to take off, when he froze with fear. "M-Madonn'!" Romano turned as well and his eyes went wide with shock. "Mamma mia!!" There stood a werewolf.

The two italians froze as the beast stepped closer. Romano glaced at the sky and noticed that the sun had almost fully set. "C-Cazzo! What the hell is wrong with this guy?" he whispered to his brother, voice full of shock. "No werewolf with enough of a brain would dare challenge even one vampire once it gets dark..." He then spied the bleach white froth dripped from the beast's mouth. Feliciano saw it as well. "MERDA!" he squealed. "IT'S GOT RABIES!!" He grabbed his brother's arm and fled. Romano tried to pull out of the North's grip, but no avail. Once they were a ways away, he finally stopped the fearful italian. "Feliciano! What the hell is wrong with you? So what if he has rabies?" Veneziano just stared at him as if he had two heads.

"Y-You don't know?"

"Know about what?"

His sibling flailed his arms about wildly, as if to emphasize his fear. "Rabies is fatal to us! One simple scratch could kill a vampire!"

Romano's eyes went wide with shock. "Seriously?" The bush nearby then shook and both italians whipped toward it. Out of the mass of leaves leaped the lycan. He just so happened to be aimed straight at Feliciano...

The hospital was dead silent and the lights in the patients' rooms had been shut off. England layed in the hospital bed and stared blankly out the window. The sun had disappeared below the horizon and the night had taken over. Clouds swirled about in the sky, blocking all light from the stars. The only lights that lit the area were those from the city. He ran a hand under his shirt and slightly stroked his flawless stomach once more, as if the reinforce the fact that it was healed, and glared at the thick clouds. If only he could see the sky...

At that precise moment, the clouds parted and revealed the stunning full moon. It's milky light streamed through the window and onto Arthu's face. He gasped with shock as his previous wound began to tingle. The more the clouds split, the more it began to hurt. His gaze locked onto the huge silver sphere and his eyes widen with shock and pain. Such strange feelings began to arise. He'd never experienced anything like this before. All of a sudden, his former wound felt like it was being reopen and he screamed with pain, arms wrapping around his abdomen and curled into a ball. England's breathing grew short and choppy, yet he couldn't stop staring at the huge celestial orb. Nails grew sharp and hard, blackening. Teeth became pointed and extremly white. The pain grew more intense. At that moment, Arthur finally relized the extent of the damage. His pupils turned to slits and everything went dark...

* * *

AN: Long chapter is fuckin long.

Just thought I'd get that out of the way. :D

*ahem* Ok, so I know you all love Picture Book... I've got really bad news... I've got Writer's Block up the ass. Yes, I've started writing chapter 16, but I'm stuck... RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE TOO. WHAT THE FUCK. *ahem* :D Sorry for my language...

So, that and the shit happening in school, I wouldn't expect an update for a while. Usually when I get Writer's Block, I work on this fic. Hence why I wrote another chapter. Anyway, I hope you all like it! :D Translations time...

Translations:

French------

Mon chéri-my dear

Magnifique-Magnificent

Mon amour pour toi est éternel-My love for you is eternal

Italian------

Va bene-Ok

Grazie-Thank you (Thanks)

Prego-You're welcome

Madonn'-Mother of god (abreviated way of saying madonna which is, as the translation says, suposedly the mother of god)

Mamma mia-Oh my/My god (nothing to do with your mother... it has many translations, but it's used as an exclamation of annoyance, fright or shock)

Cazzo-F#ck (:D)

Merda-Shit (:D)

Damn, this one has quite a bit of foreign words... Anyway, R&R!!!


	4. Chapter 4 edited

Claws outstretched. Foamy fangs. The werewolf lunged with all it's might, a petrifying roar emitting from it's throat. Feliciano was rooted to the spot, body frozen with fear. At the last second, Romano grabbed his brother and tore him from the ground he stood. He held his sibling tight and unfurled his wings, running off in the other direction. Beating hard, he took off into the air and smirked at the annoyed howl from behind, a sign the werewolf had gotten a mouthful of musty park soil.

The North squirmed from his brother's grip and gliding into the air beside him, glancing behind to see if the beast was still following them. Indeed it was. Bounding with great speed, it seemed to be catching up to him. A loud squeal of shock and fright emitted from him and he burst forward, his great angelic wings beating the wind with a great force. Slightly confused, the South glanced back as well, only to be nose-to-nose with the great beast itself…

Feliciano heard a scream of pain and shock and stopped, turning in mid-air. The sight almost made him drop from the sky. The werewolf had the South in it's arms and was biting down hard on his neck. Thick purple-ish blood bubbled up from the wound and oozed down Romano's shoulders, neck and the beast's arms. Tears pricked in his eyes and he struggled against the beast's sheer strength, but it was obvious that he was getting weaker. His movements grew slow and delayed as more blood left him. His face grew deathly pale and his eyelids started to droop, plus his entire body slowly going limp.

The North froze, not even beating his wings, and promptly fell from the air, thudding into the mossy park soil. He stared up at the monster and it threw his brother's ghostly body to the side and turning to him. He just sat there, as if this was a nightmare that would cut off right before the worst part. Suddenly, gunshots were heard and the beast roared with pain, glaring to the side.

Feliciano looked in that direction as well and saw Ludwig standing confidently, Luger in hand. "Doitsu!" Italy cried out, reaching for the blonde nation. Germany didn't even flinch as the beast stepped toward him. In fact, he let it walk right up to him. Baring it's fangs, the werewolf looked the man up and down. In a flash, Ludwig then raised his gun, touched it to the beast's forehead and blasted it's brains out from the back of it's skull. The werewolf's body froze for a moment and then thudded to the ground, unmoving.

Germany lowered his arm, clicking the Luger onto his belt, and glared down at the monster. It's dark red blood pooled only briefly on the soggy soil before absorbing into the ground. Foam silently trickled from it's mouth and dripped down it's glinting fangs. Feliciano stood, staring at the beast that was about to take his life only moments before. "That…" he started, a grin appearing on his face. "…was SO epic…" They smiled for a split second… until a soft, pitiful moan was heard.

The North's expression fell, hard, as if he'd just discovered the secret of the universe wasn't what he thought it was. Whipping around, he spied his brother laying upon the ground in a crumpled heap. "FRATELLO!" he screeched, racing to his sibling's side. His blood went cold as the dark violet liquid oozed from the South's body.

"F-Felician-no…" Romano whispered weakly, reaching for him. The Italians linked hands and gazes. Sensing his brother's weaken will to live, Feliciano looked up at Germany with pleading eyes. "His wound is deep… and there's no doubt the rabies has passed to him… Plus, he's lost so much blood…" The North said, his voice full of dread. "Which means…" Ludwig began. "He might not make it…" There was a moment of silence until Feliciano promptly burst into tears.

* * *

Fluids poured from the torn IVs, which lay scattered on the floor. The sheets of the hospital bed were shredded and covered in what seemed to be fur. Golden fur. Meters away, brooding in the corner, was a beast. Gleaming golden fur, glinting in the moonlight. Great emerald orbs glared around the room while claws tapped at the floor tiles. A werewolf. Not a huge, hulking monster, but a small, lanky being who slinked low to the floor like a fox. A long, elegant tail swished back and forth, easily clearing a distance of two meters. It's long, fox-like muzzle contained rows of sharp teeth, complete with a set of razor fangs.

It stepped into the moonlight, easily pushing itself up onto it's back feet. Back arched, it stood like a human, gazing around the room. Footsteps were heard racing down the hall and the beast perked up it ears, listening. Frenzied voices behind the door and the werewolf dropped to all fours again, anticipating a sneak attack. As if on cue, the door was blown from it's hinges and the beast hid behind the bed in a flash. A few people armed with large semi-automatics stepped in the room, dressed in military-ish get-up. They looked around the room, apparently searching for the beast. "Come out, Arthur!" One seemed to tease, loading the gun with a tranquilizer. The beast stayed frozen under the bed, waiting for one of the men to come near. The one who'd been teasing walked right in front of the werewolf's dripping jaws. Not the smartest move…

"Stop hiding England! We know your he-" He was cut off when he was torn from the floor and under the bed. His screams made the others jump with fright and scramble to the back of the room. The two other soldiers pointed their shaking guns at the bottom of the bed as blood began to pool out from under it. There was a snap and everything fell quiet.

The beast then slipped out from it hiding place and lunged at the others. Guns fired and even more screams of pain filled the air. Soon, the room was dripping blood. The werewolf stood on it's hind legs, fur soaked with blood, and turned toward the threshold of the room. It quietly walked out in a human way, as if nothing had ever happened, and raced off through the hospital.

* * *

AN: Yes, I haven't updated in a while. I know. Blame school. In fact, please make it illegal so I don't have to go and can write some more. :D

Anyway, I shall once again remind you all to remind me via PM if it gets Twilight-ish. I answer PMs quickly if not immediately. If you don't have an account, thus you can't PM me, FUCKIN MAKE ONE. WHY ARE YOU BROWSING FFN WITHOUT AN ACCOUNT IN THE FIRST PLACE?!?

And, on the topic of Fanfics, yes FrUK will have proper endings. I'm just in the process of making them. One FrUK and one USUK so I don't upset the fans. Like I've said many times before, I find FrUK sexier… but USUK has more of a cute-kawaii-desu factor… HOLYSHITIJUSTSAIDKAWAIIDESU. WTFI'MAWEEABOO. Look up weeaboo on google if you have no idea what it is… It's bad, I'll let you know that…

PB Current Chappy: 15

EDIT: Alright, Microsoft Word has now fully pissed me off. D: The effing site doesn't seem to relize the HUGE space I put between the two scenes of the Italys and WereIggy… Wtf… So I added a break…. *continues to brood over MW*


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